


A Choice

by shifty_cat



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Drug Policy, F/M, Law Enforcement, Makoto Niijima Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 12:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20724218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shifty_cat/pseuds/shifty_cat
Summary: An encounter on the beat leads Makoto to question the Justice of the law.





	A Choice

Makoto was a bit ambivalent about working the beat. She recognized the need to maintain connections and establish trust between the citizens of Tokyo and the police, but she had joined the force to take down criminals who preyed on the defenseless, and there wasn’t terribly much of that in her daily patrols. For the most part, she was mediating minor personal conflicts, reassuring the public that the police were taking their concerns seriously, occasionally hauling in an especially belligerent drunk. Generally maintaining the working order of the city, and since the city was for the most part functioning reasonably smoothly, she found her contribution less impactful than she might have hoped. Honestly, it kind of reminded her of her time as student council president.

Still, it was a necessary first step in ascending the police hierarchy towards her dream of becoming commissioner, and she intended to approach it with the determination and effort with which she approached basically everything. She was already beginning to develop a reputation as a bright, resourceful, and principled officer, with the Criminal Investigation Bureau, Organized Crime Bureau, and Public Security Bureau all hinting that she would be an excellent addition once she made sergeant. Organized Crime was her first choice. It was her father’s department, and she wanted to carry on his legacy, but was concerned for Akira in the event that either she or he were targeted for retaliation. Criminal Investigation’s focus on data analytics was well suited to her talents, but felt terribly dry, even to her. Public Security was certainly tempting, giving her the opportunity to combat large scale threats to the population.

For now, though, it was the daily grind. Noticing a teenage boy partially concealed in an alleyway, with a thin plume of smoke rising from him, she rolled her eyes and pulled over her bike (she preferred her FJR, but it was better suited to touring, and the nimble little Honda she was assigned was well suited to navigating Tokyo traffic), prepared to give him a stern talking-to about the deleterious effects of smoking on his health. As she approached, however, she noticed an unusual smell, and on closer inspection noticed that while he held a pack of cigarettes, the one in his hand was a rough, hand rolled number. Her eyes narrowed. As the boy noticed the approaching officer, his eyes went wide with fear, and Makoto held out her hand without a word. He reluctantly handed her the joint, and she sniffed it once before stubbing it out on the wall and dropping it into a small evidence bag.

As she prepared to call in an arrest for juvenile possession and use of marijuana, she had a flash of recognition. While this juvenile delinquent bore little resemblance to the delinquent she had fallen in love with, the look of fear and resignation on his face was strangely reminiscent of Akira’s when she confronted him with evidence of his Phantom Thief activities, and as then, she found herself doubting what she was doing. This kid couldn’t be any older than Akira was when they met. Was it really right to lock him up and brand him as a criminal for life over something that she could not see as causing real harm to anyone? She served the law, but Makoto’s true dedication was to Justice, and she had a troubling sense that this was anything but Just. She sighed deeply, then fixed him with an intense frown and a Niijima glare. “How old are you?”

The boy looked somewhat confused, but answered without hesitation. “S-sixteen, officer, m-ma’am.”

She shook her head and pointed at the pack of cigarettes, then held out her hand. “Those too, then.”

He quickly handed her the pack, and she raised an intimidating finger. “Now get out of here. And don’t let me catch you with either of these again.”

The boy stood dumbfounded for a moment, then bowed deeply, speaking quickly. “Y-yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am. I won’t, ma’am.” Then he scurried off, Makoto watching him for a moment with a conflicted look before walking back to her bike to resume her patrol.

“Well I think you did the right thing. I’m proud of you. Moreso than usual, even.” Akira spoke softly in Makoto’s ear as he massaged her shoulders, holding her more or less on his lap on the couch in their apartment.

Makoto shook her head, her eyes fixed on the little bag now sitting on their coffee table. “Thank you, but I don’t know. It’s my duty to uphold the law, not to decide on the fly which laws I think I should enforce.”

He gently squeezed her shoulder. “I seem to recall a long and very exciting discussion of St. Augustine and unjust laws back in college. And if you asked me for an example of a current law I think is unjust, our drug policy is it. Five years for first time possession of pot is absurd. We almost make U.S. drug law seem reasonable by comparison. Aside from the blatant racial disparity in enforcement and punishment, of course. Although I suppose we’ve got that covered too.”

She sighed with a frown, her shoulders sagging. “I agree, but that isn’t for me to decide. The law is the law, and the proper channel for change would be pressuring representatives to amend that law, not officers taking it upon themselves to make a moral judgment to reject it. Our society functions on respect for and adherence to the law. If the police just decide for themselves whether a law is Just or not, what force or meaning does the law have?”

He hummed and traced his fingers down from her shoulder to rub slow circles on her back. “You aren’t a robot, Officer Beep Boop, and I for one would much rather have you apply your own ethics rather than automatically carry out the law in its strictest sense. Although I may be a bit biased, since that’s the only reason I’m not still in jail. I know you care and think deeply about both the law and Justice, but I also know that when there’s a conflict between them, you’ve always chosen Justice, and I hope you always will. It’s one of the infinite number of things I love about you.”

Makoto relaxed a little into his touch, partially mollified by his affection and respect for her judgment, and he reached around her to pick up the little bag, examining the slightly bent joint. “Besides, and this may be a bit of a controversial statement in this household, but I think the attitude that ‘the law is the law’ is part of the problem. One of the main reasons that bullshit law has stayed in place so long is because pot is seen as bad precisely because it’s illegal, rather than any actual social harm it causes. And why would we change a law prohibiting something that we know is bad, and we know it’s bad because it’s illegal? It’s a Catch 22.”

She regarded the joint with suspicion. “Perhaps, but I would be reluctant to call a substance that combines the intoxicating effects of alcohol and the health impact of tobacco ‘harmless’. And even if use itself isn’t socially harmful enough to warrant the harshness of the laws against it, it funds criminal organizations who smuggle and distribute it.”

He rested his chin on her shoulder. “Fair enough, but we allow alcohol and tobacco. We regulate them, but we don’t prohibit them. And if we legalized pot, we’d be cutting out the funding from those criminal organizations and opening up that money to legitimate businesses. The prohibition fuels organized crime, just like when America tried prohibiting alcohol. Speaking of which, want me to grab you a beer?”

She nodded and adjusted herself enough to allow him to get up and head to the fridge, returning a moment later with two open bottles of her preferred witbier and handing her one before sliding back into his spot beside/under her. He lightly clinked bottles with her and took a sip. “Put it this way: how many calls have you handled this month involving someone who’s drunk and does something stupid?”

She thought for a moment, counting the incidents. “Thirty… seven? No, wait, thirty eight. There was a particularly annoying one the other day.”

He nodded with a grin. “And how many incidents involving pot?”

She didn’t have to think long. “None.”

He lightly squeezed her hip. “So while they both have intoxicating effects, the nature of the effects aren’t necessarily comparable. I’ve never heard of someone getting high and picking a fight. Besides, while inhaling smoke is always going to have a negative health impact over time, prohibition has prevented pot being used for legitimate medical purposes.”

She turned her head and gave him a skeptical look, and he shook his head with a chuckle. “I mean it, although you have to go to foreign news on it since our media won’t touch it with a ten foot pole. Among other things, it’s significantly helped people on chemotherapy to deal with the pain and nausea, and allowed them to eat. We have an aging population, and a lot of people who’ve chosen to die rather than deal with the effects of chemo. I remember a story a while back about a guy with liver cancer who was caught using weed to handle his chemo. He said it had improved both how he felt and his prognosis.”

She gave him a wide eyed look of surprise. “What happened to him?”

He frowned and gave her a serious look. “His condition rapidly deteriorated once he was in custody, and he died before his case went to trial, which allowed the courts and the government to conveniently ignore it and stay the course on prohibition. Is that Justice?”

Makoto let out a pained groan. That was, unambiguously, not Justice. Justice, at it’s deepest level, was a matter of helping those who were suffering, not compounding their sufferings. She sighed and closed her eyes, then fixed Akira with a look of determination. “I’ll continue to choose Justice, always, but I want you to promise me one thing. Promise me you’ll fight to change the laws. Fight for reforms that will allow me to uphold the law with a clear conscience.”

He nodded and gave her an affectionate smile. “I promise. I’ll talk to Old Man Tora about it, but it’ll be a heavy lift and I don’t know if our faction has the strength to get it through in the short term. The problem with change through the proper channels is that getting anything meaningful done in the Diet is like giving a wolf a root canal. It’s hard enough to get them to open their mouths, and they snap at you as soon as you actually try to do it.”

She couldn’t help but giggle at his bizarre analogy, and leaned down to give him a playful kiss. “All I ask is that you try. That’s all anyone can ask.”


End file.
